Spork or Foon?

Junior's Tiramisu Cheesecake, Dr. Death, DDR. and my 400th Post!

 

This is my 400th post! That's crazy!!!

I had my wisdom teeth pulled this past Thursday. I hemmed and hawed, whined and moaned to coworkers. I was scared.  I was convinced – convinced I tell you! – that I was going to wake up during the surgery and discover the evil oral surgeon perched over me with the metal shears of death waiting to rip each tooth out from my mouth slowly as his eyes burned with fire and the dental hygienist cackled in the background.

I know. I’m a huge baby. And a drama queen.

But you see, I had a horrible experience at the dentist.  Take a trip down memory lane with me, shall we?

It was 2001. I was studying in London during my fall semester of Junior year.  My best friend, Tara, and I had taken a weekend jaunt to Amsterdam and were slowly wandering around the Van Gogh museum. I was enjoying a Nip hard candy and Starry Night when all of a sudden I felt a crack. Somehow, my tooth had chipped. I thought, either I have really weak teeth or this is the strongest Nip on the face of the planet.

Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t get a dentist appointment to save my life, so I lived the four months in London with a chipped tooth. When I returned to The States, it was no surprise that I needed to have a root canal. From my evil dentist whom I hated.

He was a dentist who I had been going to for years and he was mean. Just straight up mean. I think he had a drinking problem as well (no joke). But I never tried to change dentists, because I was still under the impression that all dentists were evil.   

He was a round, middle aged man, who stood no higher than 5’8”.  His meaty, clumsy hands always fumbled when picking up the equipment.  I still remember the sound of his labored breathing as he worked on my mouth, no doubt causing greater damage on my teeth rather than fixing them (no joke. I’ve learned I need another root canal because he drilled too close to the nerve on a cavity he filled years back. Dr. Death, DDR.

 So I sat in the chair of his dim blue office with chipping paint walls as I gazed up in terror at the fluorescent lights.  He gave me a few shots of Novocain and picked up an instrument. Wait! I thought. Isn’t he supposed to let it set? Nope. Not Dr. Death, DDR. He went straight to work. I winced in pain and made a feeble sound, letting him know I wasn’t comfortable.

“I can still feel it.” I mumbled in my garbled speak that only dentists can understand.

He huffed as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world that I could still feel it.  He gave me a few more shots of Novocain and waited five minutes, clearly annoyed that I was inconveniencing him because I could feel the drilling IN MY BRAIN.

I’ll spare you the details, but after an hour of screaming and 8 shots of Novocain later, I left his office looking like someone had hit me in the face repeatedly with a baseball bat, or just stuck a softball in my mouth with tears streaming down my face.

So now, whenever I sit in a dentist chair, I start shaking, become short of breath, and tear up a little bit when I think of Dr. Death, DDR.

However, this oral surgeon was anything but.  He was young, handsome, and extremely charismatic. I immediately was shuffled into a back room and received a cat scan. I was confused as they strapped my head to the chair and asked me to close my eyes as the machine whirled around my face. It was the chamber of death and I was going to die by wisdom tooth extraction.  I prayed that it would be a quick end as the anesthesia pulsed through my body and lulled me to sleep.

An hour later, I awoke to my boyfriend entering the room and lightly kissing me on the forehead.

“Did they start yet?” I asked.

He laughed. “Yes, you’re done.” 

We went home and I surprisingly had no pain. I leered a little bit at the sight of my chipmunk cheeks, but otherwise, I was fine. No pain. No aching. Nothing. But I was instructed to take it easy to not aggravate my mouth.

Well, by the weekend, I was going totally stir crazy and I wanted to eat something good. I was sick of jello. I wanted something delicious. I’ve been eyeing this tiramisu cheesecake recipe for weeks now, and I thought this would be the perfect time. Since I bored you with my dentist story, I’ll keep the cheesecake part short. You know, because this is a blog about dentists, not food.

 
I don't know how many of you have ever visited or heard of Junior's Cheesecake, a New York City historical icon in terms of dessert. They have a cookbook out featuring recipes for many of their famous cheesecakes, and this one just popped out of me. Tiramisu. Cheesecake. Two of my favorite things.  But would it be as delicious as it sounds?

YES.

This cheesecake is OUTRAGEOUS. Perfect for any cheesecake lover.  The creamy, coffee cheesecake layer is pure heaven and is topped with a layer of deliciously soft lady fingers that were soaked in a sweet tiramisu syrup made of coffee, rum, and water. The cheesecake is then encircled with more tiramisu syrup-soaked ladyfingers and finally, the entire cheesecake is topped with the most delicious, billowy, sweet mascarpone cream.

OUT. RA. GEOUS. I could have eaten the whole thing. But then I ate an entire pint of Hagen Daaz Dulce De Leche Frozen yogurt, so I couldn’t justify more than a tiny sliver of cheesecake.

Who’s got two thumbs and gains weight when she can’t eat after wisdom tooth surgery? This girl.

 

 
 

Tiramisu Cheesecake – Adapted from Junior’s Cheesecake cookbook

1 tablespoon hot water

1 tablespoon instant freeze-dried espresso or coffee

Three 8-ounce packages cream cheese (use only full fat),at room temperature

1 1/3 cups sugar

1/4 cornstarch

1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract

2 extra-large eggs

2/3 cup heavy or whipping cream

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Generously butter the bottom and sides of a 9-inch springform pan. Wrap the outside of the pan will aluminum foil,covering the bottom and extending all the way up the sides.

Stir the water and espresso together in a small cup until dissolved. Put one package of the cream cheese, 1/3 cup of the sugar, and the cornstrach in a large bowl. Beat with an electric mixer on low intil creamy, about 3 minutes, scraping the bowl down a couple of times. Blend in the remaining cream cheese, one package at a time, scraping down the bowl after each one. Increase the mixer speed to medium and beat in the remaining 1 cup sugar, then the vanilla. Add coffee into the cream, add to the cream cheese mixture, and beat just until it's completely blended. Be careful not to overmix! Gently spoon the batter into the springform.

Place in a large shallow pan containing hot water that comes about 1 inch up the sides of the springform. Bake until the edges are light brown and the top is light tan, about 1 1/4 hours. Remove the cake from the water bath, transfer to a wire rack, and let cool in the pan on a wire rack for 2 hours. Then cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until completely cold, preferably overnight or for at least 4 hours.

For the Tiramisu Syrup and Ladyfinger Layer:

1 cup hot water

2 tablespoon instant freeze-dried aspresso or coffee

¼ sugar

¼ cup Rum

At least 22 ladyfingers (9 for the layering and 13 for the ring around the edge – I’m sure I used more, though.)

Make the tiramisu syrup. Combine the water and espresso in a small sauce-pan until dissolved. Add the sugar and Kahlua or Rum, bring to a boil over medium-high heat, reduce the heat to medium, and let simmer, uncovered for 3 minutes, stirring a few times. Top the cold cheesecake (still in the pan) with a layer of ladyfingers,. Transfer the cake to the freezer until completely frozen, at least overnight and/or until ready to assemble.

For the Mascarpone Cream

1 1/2 teaspoons unflavored granulated gelatin

1 tablespoon cold water

1 1/2 cups cold heavy or whipping cream

2 tablespoons sugar

1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract

2 tbsp rum

One 8- to 10-ounce carton mascarpone cheese

When you're ready to assemble the cake, make the mascarpone cream. Place the gelatin in a heatproof measuring cup, stir in the cold water, and let stand until it swells and thickens. Cook in the microwave on high about 30 seconds or over a pan of simmering water for about 1 minute, until clear and completely melted. In a medium-size bowl, whip the cream with the mixer on high until it thickens and soft peaks just begin to form. With the mixer still running, add the sugar and beat just until the cream stands up in peaks (don't over-mix or the cream will curdle). Beat in the vanilla and rum. Add the melted gelatin all at once and beat until thoroughly incorporated. Gently fold in the mascarpone with a rubber spatula.

Remove the cake from the freezer and let it stand at room temperature about 10 minutes. Release and remove the sides of the springform, then remove the cheesecake from the bottom of the pan. Transfer to a cake plate. To attach the remaining ladyfingers (26 halves) to the outside of the cake, spread a thin layer of the mascarpone cream over the flat split sides of the ladyfingers. Stand them up around the edge of the cake, rounded-side out pressing each one gently in place. Spoon the remaining mascarpone on top of the cake and gently even out with a metal spatula; it will come up almost to the top of the ladyfingers. Since the cheesecake is still very cold, the mascarpone cream will set fast.

For The Topping:

4 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate made into Chocolate Curls

1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa  powder

To decorate, cover the top of the cake with the chocolate curls, then sprinkle evenly with the cocoa. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours, until the mascarpone layer is cold and set and the cheesecake layer has defrosted enough to slice easily. Slice with a sharp straight-edge knife, not a serrated one. Cover any leftover cake and refrigerate or wrap and freeze for up to 1 month.

 

Kahlua Chocolate Chip Cookies

I was trolling around on Facebook (that actually sounds so odd and slightly sleazy), doing things people on Facebook do – you know, like looking at vacation photos of people who I haven’t talked to in ten years – when I saw these Kahlua Chocolate Chip cookies on She’s Become Doughmesstic’s site. 

My eyes almost popped out of my head.  Now, we all know that I love putting alcohol in desserts.  I no longer feel like a closet alcoholic when I enter the liquor store and buy those airline bottles of alcohol.  Instead, I walk in with my head held high, and as I plunk my money down on the countertop, I say to the guy behind the countertop with conviction:

“I need it for cooking.”

He answers back with a blank stare, as if he could care less about my closet alcoholism, cooking needs, or my two dollars and nineteen cents. 

But I digress.

When I saw these cookies, I was immediately intrigued. Cookies with a twist. Kahlua. Hazelnut oil. Chocolate chunks filled with caramel. I loved it. 

I decided to make them during a weekend away with friends at my boyfriend’s parent’s incredible beach house.  I try to cook and bake as much as possible when I am here, because… well… just look at this kitchen. 

 
And there are two kitchens like this. I die.

Unfortunately, when at the beach house I am usually short on cooking utensils. Sometimes it terrifies me when people do not have baking necessities like stand mixers and cooling racks.  How do they live like this? I think.  Then I realize not everyone is a crazy baker like me.  However, there is nary a baking sheet to be found in this house. Funnily enough, I also think I am the only one in the history of the house to have ever used either of the ovens.  And they built the house 5 years ago.

I had to be creative. I decided to bake up these cookies in 13 x 9” Pyrex dishes and cool them on a barbeque basket.

Like I said, I had to be creative.

I needed to tweak the recipe a bit, as the supermarket down in Long Beach Island does not have luxuries like hazelnut oil, or even chocolate bars with caramel inside.

Also, a friend of ours has a severe peanut allergy, so I could only use Hershey’s chocolate (something new that I learned). Not that there is anything wrong with Hershey’s, but I’d love to try these with a premium chocolate.  Because these are a premium cookie.  The crisp edges of the cookie give way to a supremely chewy center with flavors laced with the deliciously complex flavor of the coffee liquor.  I was incredibly impressed with this cookie. Oftentimes, it is hard to trace the flavors of a liquor in a baked good, but the Kahlua flavor truly was the star of the cookie.

Oh. And the dough. Don’t you even get me started on that dough.  Dangerous.

Here is the recipe with my revisions, but check out Susan's site for the full on recipe - hazelnut oil, premium chocolate, caramel and all!

Kahlua Chocolate Chip Cookies adaped from She's Becoming Doughmesstic

10  Tablespoons Browned Butter (salted butter)

2 Tablespoons Hazelnut Oil

1/3 cup Dark Brown Sugar

1/2 cup Light Brown sugar

2/3 cup Sugar

2 large eggs

1 teaspoon Vanilla

1 1/2 Tablespoons Kahlua

2 Bars Hershey’s Dark Chocolate, chopped

2 cups plus 2 Tablespoons All Purpose Flour

1/2 teaspoon Baking Soda

Pinch salt

 

Preheat oven to 325 F.

In a small sauce pan, brown the butter over medium heat (the butter will be golden brown and have a slightly nutty scent).  Let cool slightly.

When the butter is browned, add to sugars sugars and mix until the butter is fully incorporated.  Add the eggs one at a time.  Add salt, vanilla and Kahlua and mix until fully incorporated. 

In a separate bowl, combine dry ingredients.  Add dry ingredients to the butter and sugar mixture and fold in with a rubber spatula.  Mix only until just combined. 

Add chopped chocolate to the batter. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate dough for 15 to 20 minutes.

Place 1” balls of dough on prepared cookie sheet.  Bake for 15 minutes, or until just golden brown, for best results.  Remove from oven and place on a cooling rack to fully cool. 

Lime and Coconut Cookies

 

First off, let me say I hate any recipe that has Lime and Coconut in the title.  Mainly because I get that dreaded song stuck in my head.  And because I don’t really know the words to said song, so I just sing an annoying song over and over incorrectly.

“You get the lime in the coconut you make it fall up.”

You make it fall. Up. Seriously. That’s what I think the words are. And I’m still too lazy to Google the correct lyrics.

I made these cookies for my cousin’s baby shower a few weeks back to go along with the two different types of cupcakes. I had grandiose dreams of making little stork cookies and little baby onesie cookies decorated in purple and green.

And then reality hit. I began to have nightmares of my 2,500 cookie bonanza this past Christmas.  I thought of the nervous breakdown I had when recently making a close friend’s wedding cake (which I never blogged about and don’t know if I can because I just can’t relive it. But I must say, I love the girl whom I made this cake for to death and I would do it again if she asked!)

I broke out into a cold sweat. I swore an ulcer was slowly forming wherever ulcers form. I couldn’t do it. Not again. I needed an easy cookie recipe.

I found these lime and coconut cookies on Two Peas in a Pod.  Simple, easy butter cookies speckled with lime zest and toasted coconut.  I could bang out 100 of these cookies in no time. I even had some purple and green sprinkles to sprinkle atop the cookies to really make them pop.

I nervously texted my cousin (the twin sister of the then-mom-to-be) that I could not do anything crazy in regards to the cookies because I just didn’t have the time to do it. She reassured me that it was fine and not to go crazy.  I felt a little bit better, but still slightly disappointed in myself, nonetheless.

Well, once I tasted these cookies, I was disappointed no-more.  The buttery, chewy cookies were as light and air as hints of lime danced atop my tongue.  The coconut lent a wonderfully chewy, slightly crisp pop to the texture, however, did not add much to the flavor.  But these cookies were great, nonetheless. An easy, delicious treat that is perfect for any summer celebration.

When I arrived at my cousin’s house, I arranged the cookies atop her gorgeously decorated dessert table, as my family oohed and aahhed.  My cousin (not the pregnant one) exclaimed at how beautiful she thought the cookies were (she is one of the sweetest people ever and always has a way of making people feel good about themselves). Hungrily, my family reached for cookies as they awaited the arrival of the rest of the bridal shower guests. I had the urge to slap their hands as they swiped a cookie because I always saw people do that in movies and wanted to do that, but then I thought that would be mean. So I refrained. Because I’m nice like that. 

Instead, I watched as they ate the cookies in delight. Many commented that they could not taste the lime (which I agree), but still loved the soft, buttery texture of the cookie.   This recipe is definitely a keepr.

Random side story:  My father, who happened to imbibe in one glass of Dewar’s too many, had a plateful of cookies and then, in his drunken state, tried to eat the duck-shaped confetti that decorated the dishes.

“What the hell kind of sprinkles are these?” He shouted as he spit out pieces of green and purple confetti.

“It’s confetti, Dad.” I said, laughing hysterically as I swapped out the watered down glass of scotch for a piping hot cup of coffee.

That’s my dad, for you.

Lime and Coconut Sugar Cookies adapted from Two Peas and Their Pod

2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 large egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Zest of 4 large limes
3 tbsp lime juice
½ cup toasted coconut
1/2 cup sugar for rolling cookies

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper or Silpats.

In a small bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, mix sugar and lime zest with your fingers until the sugar is moist and fragrant.  Add butter and, using a paddle attachment, beat butter and sugar until smooth and very fluffy (about 3 minutes)

 Add in the egg, vanilla extract, and lime juice. Mix until well combined.

Gradually add in the dry ingredients and toasted coconut. Mix until combined. Be sure not to over mix.
Roll rounded teaspoonfuls of cookie dough into balls. Put sugar in a small bowl and roll cookie dough balls in the sugar. Place on lined cookie sheets about 1 1/2 inches apart.

Bake 8 to 10 minutes or until lightly browned. The cookies will start to crack a little bit.

Let stand on cookie sheet two minutes. Move cookies to a cooling rack.

Makes about 3 dozen cookies

 

Panforte Ice Cream

 

First I must say HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JACK, my boyfriend. I love him so much. He's a cutie.

A few weeks back, I was having some friends over to watch a World Cup match and wanted to find a good dessert to serve.  It was a hot day out and I was longing for a deliciously rich, creamy ice cream. I randomly opened up Dave Lebovitz’s “Perfect Scoop” straight to the Panforte Ice Cream recipe.

Interesting. I thought.  Panforte. I’m intrigued.  A friend who was coming over is a first-generation Italian and I thought this would suite my guests perfectly.

However, I was faced with a slight dilemma.  Panforte is the Italian version of a fruit cake. And fruit cakes are scary enough in their true form. 

This mystery cake haunts many-a-holiday-celebration.  Guests turn up their noses in disgust as they scornfully look down at the brick-like cake.  Nauseating bits of candied fruit create a craggly landscape atop the dense spice cake, and, if you’re really unlucky, your gracious host would have thrown in a handful of nuts.  A question that will always be the subject of trivia at any party: “If the cake is soaked in alcohol, why is it always so dry?” And, in my opinion, no cake should have a shelf-life that could span years.

That is the scariest thought of all.

Fruitcake should be served on Halloween.  Want to scare away all of the pesky trick-or-treaters who happily traipse up and down the street as they ring your doorbell and greet you with a melodious “Trick or Treat”?  Open the door slowly and hand them each a piece of last year’s fruit cake. 

Boo!

However, I do love the deep and fragrant notes of cloves, cinnamon, and freshly grated nutmeg and longed to try them in ice cream form.   However, I was a little bit thrown off at the not-so-excited reaction of my Italian friend.

“What are you making for dessert?” he asked.

“Panforte Ice Cream.”  I said, nervously.

Silence.

“Have you ever had panforte?” I asked, stupidly.

“Yeahhhh.” He said, timidly. I was unnerved by the way he drew out the word.  I convinced myself he was going to hate it. “But never as ice cream.”

Wonderful scents of wafted through the air as the warmed spices infused into the half-and-half and only became more fragrant when mixed with the eggs and thickened into creamy custard, leaving me longing for crisp, fall air in the suffocating heat of July. I became even more eager to try the ice cream as I mixed the custard with the final bits of heavy cream and watched as a steady stream of amber honey created ribbons throughout the custard.

After what seemed like hours (it was really only 30 minutes), I churned the ice cream and added chunks of Ghirardelli chocolate and sliced toasted almonds.

But chocolate is not in fruitcake, you say? Nope. But chocolate makes everything better.

But there are no candied fruits in this, you say?  Damn right there are no candied fruits.  I don’t want that stuff messing up my ice cream.

 I ran through an arsenal of spoons as I tasted the ice cream at various stages of churning.  And when I say various stages, I mean every 2 minutes. 

Oh, it must be colder. Let me taste.

SO GOOD.

Oh, it looks thicker. I must try it.

SO GOOD.

Nope. Not thicker. Need to eat it again.

SO GOOD.

Finally, the ice cream was ready. After a bit of time in the freezer (about 20 minutes, nowhere near long enough for the ice cream to set), my guests requested the ice cream

“Ok, but it’s not done.”  I explained.

I don’t even think they heard me. Everyone grabbed a spoon and plunged it into the somewhat melted ice cream.

“Wow that is SO good.” Someone yelled in between bites.

“This is incredible.” Someone else said.

“It tastes like a cannoli! I want the whole thing!”

I was relieved.  I have overcome the curse of the fruitcake.  The solution: Don’t add fruit and turn it into ice cream.

Panforte Ice Cream adapted from David Lebovitz's Perfect Scoop

1 cup half and half

⅔ cup sugar

1 cinnamon stick, broken in half

¼ tsp ground cloves

¼ tsp freshly grated nutmeg

2 cups heavy cream

4 large egg yolks

3 Tbsp honey

8 oz. premium dark chocolate, chopped

2 tbsp rum

½ cup almonds, toasted and coarsely chopped

 

Warm the half-and-half, sugar, and spices in a medium saucepan. Cover, remove from heat, and let steep for 30 minutes at room temperature.

Rewarm the spice-infused mixture. Pour the cream into a large bowl and set a mesh strainer over top. In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg yolks. Slowly pour the warmed mixture into the egg yolks, whisking constantly, then scrape the mixture back into the saucepan.

Stir the mixture constantly over medium-low to medium heat with a spatula, scraping the bottom as you stir, until the mixture thickens and coats the spatula. Don’t rush this step, it may take 10 minutes or so. If you hurry it along, you may be having a little breakfast (scrambled eggs) with your ice cream. Pour the custard through the strainer into the cream. Discard the cinnamon stick. Stir the custard until cool over an ice bath. While it’s cooling, warm the honey in a small saucepan, then stir it into the custard.

Chill the mixture throughly in the refrigerator. Even though you’re about to pour it into your frozen ice cream maker, the chilling step is actually very important for the final texture. Give it at least a few hours in the fridge. When cold, freeze it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions. During the last few minutes of churning, add the citrus peel and almonds.

 

Harry Potter's Butterbeer!!!

I know it’s been a while and I promise I will be better about posting! A month! A month! What’s wrong with me?

Work has been crazy and working for two different sports teams is even crazier. Wonderfully, fantastically crazy, but crazy nonetheless.

So sometimes I like to sit back and unwind with a nice, cold butterbeer.

(Record scratching)

You read that correctly. A butterbeer.

As in the concoction that could lower the inhibitions of many a wizard, witch, and mudblood? The drink that can leave an innocent house-elf somewhat drunk upon imbibing said beverage? The longed-after beverage for many an excited Hogwarts student on a special trip outside of school grounds at The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmead?

That’s the one.

Funnily enough, my boyfriend could easily be thought of as what Harry Potter would look like at the ripe old age of 29 years old and happily married to Ginny Weasely, maybe will little redheaded, bespectacled wizards and witches running around at their feet as they enjoy a life of wedded bliss.

Sure. Jack could easily be mistaken for an older Harry, minus the whole lightning-bolt-etched-into-his-forehead thing. And the whole being-in-love-with-Ginny-Weasley-thing.

I’d kick her ass.

Last week, as Jack and I were sitting at home relaxing after a long day at work, Jack exclaimed as if he had just remembered that he had a long-lost gem sitting in his bag. He reached into his leather messenger bag and from it, pulled out a folded piece of newspaper.

“Gabby gave this to me. You have to make this.” He informed me as he handed me the slightly crinkled paper.

I grabbed it from his hand, slightly inquisitive. Very often, I get handed recipes with exclamations of “You have to make this!” or “I thought you would like this!” It always gives me a bit of a warm, fuzzy feeling that someone thinks of me when they see a recipe and asks me to try it. And then I get nervous because I think I’m going to screw it up, let everyone down, and then be accused of being a culinary fraud.

Such is life.

I unfolded the piece of paper as my eye immediately jumped to a photo of a beer mug filled with a light, caramel liquid and topped with a by a frothy, whipped cloud of cream.

Then, the headline jumped out at me.

Butter Beer.

“Really?!” I exclaimed. “No way! This is awesome! I am definitely making this. Can I keep this?”

“No.” Jack answered matter-of-factly. “She wants the recipe back.”

Ah, well. You can win them all. I immediately jotted down the recipe and my excitement deflated slightly.

Butter? Heavy cream? Is this a children’s drink or a death concoction invented by Paula Deen to clog my arteries?

“I don’t know how I feel about drinking melted butter.” I told Jack.

“It’ll be delicious.” He reassured me.

It didn’t work.

After a few days of hemming and hawing, I decided to go for it. I ran to the supermarket and picked up the necessary ingredients. Heavy cream. Butter. I then reached the soda aisle and balked.

Do I go for diet cream soda or regular?

I hemmed and hawed. But the diet cream soda has no calories. The regular has 190 calories. 190 calories!

Wait. I thought to myself. You’re about to drink melted butter and heavy cream. If you’re going to do it, you may as well go all out. I picked up the regular soda.

As I returned home, I finally read through the recipe in its entirety. Ohhhh. I thought to myself. Heavy cream, butter and brown sugar. So I’m making caramel. And then drinking it. That’s better, right?

Right?

After the caramel cooled, I poured it into the beer mug and mixed it with a little bit of the cream soda. The light, tan color of the cream soda magically (like in Harry Potter! No? No?) transformed into a rich, magnificent amber. I topped it with the remainder of the soda and listened as the froth billowed above the edge of the glass. I topped it with a bit of caramel whipped cream and walked over proudly to Jack.

This is going to be SO good. I told him excitedly.

“Can I have it?” He asked confused, as I placed the glass on the floor.

“No, I have to photograph it.”

“Right. Silly me.” He answered back dryly as he went back to reading his Wall Street Journal.

After I finished photographing the beer, I handed Jack the drink and watched him as he took his first sip. He looked at me, whipped cream dotting the tip of his nose and said:

“WOW. This is SO good. It tastes like a Root Beer Float!” (Jack’s favorite dessert/drink).

Yes, this drink is pure magic.

Butterbeer adapted from The Daily Record

1 cup light or dark brown sugar

2 tbsp water

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp cider vinegar

3/4 cup heavy cream, divided

2 tsp rum

6 tbsp butter

Four 12 oz bottles cream soda

In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the brown sugar and water. Bring to  a gentle boil and cook, stirring often, until the mixture reads 240 on a candy thermometer

Stir in the butter, salt, vinegar and 1/4 cup heavy cream. Set aside to cool to room temperature.

Once the mixture has cooled, stir in the rum extract.

In a medium bowl, combine 2 tbsp of the brown sugar mixture and the remaining 1/2 cup of heavy cream. Use an electric mixture to beat until it reaches soft peaks.

To serve, divide the brown sugar mixture between 4 tall glasses (about 1/4 cup per glass) add 1/4 cup cream soda to each glass, then stir to combine.  Fill each glass nearly to the top with additional cream soda, then spoon the whipped cream on top.

 

Baby Shower Cupcakes - Lemon Buttermilk Vanilla Bean Filled with Raspberry Jam and topped with Cream Cheese Frosting

 

WOW. I has been a LONG time since I have blogged.  I have to say, it's hard to work hard and have a blog. When do I have time to cook? When do I have time to photograph before the sun goes down?  More importantly, when do I have time to actually EAT anything besides a nutritional bar. 

It makes me nervous for my busy season. Which is nine months long. Ten if playoffs are involved.

But I digress.

Let me introduce to you these magically wonderful cucpakes.  My cousin is having what is sure to be one of the most beautiful babies on the planet, and her twin sister, who has the other most beautiful baby on the planet, threw her a baby shower and asked if I could provide the desserts for 50 guests. 

I must admit, although I was excited, I was slightly nervous.  I knew that with my newly crazy schedule, fitting in baking would be difficult. But I love these two girls like they were my own sisters and I would slave through endless sleepless nights to give them the cupcakes of their dreams.

I know I'm being dramatic, but hey, that's me.

Unfortunately, the week before, I also had to make a wedding cake to feed 200 people.  In my apartment in Manhattan. With a stove that doesn't fit a pan larger than 13". Let's just say that it was the most traumatic day of my life.  Tears were shed. Nervous breakdowns were had. Boyfriends were yelled at. And red velvet cake still stains the walls of the kitchen. But it all worked out in the end, and I think I made a pretty decent wedding cake.

But the Cake Boss I am not.

Needless to say, I was not thrilled about baking. Ever again. Until the next day when my cousin told me the number would now be closer to 65 people.

Kill me now.

As a side note, I know if my cousin Desi reads this blog, she will be worried for my well-being and stress levels.  Desi, I love you, and you know me. I stress over everything.  It's a DiMicco trait.

Back to the post. Normally, I would have prepared my recipes and done my shopping weeks before, but I was delaying. I didn't have it in me.  Friday night, I finally pulled it together, chose my recipes, went shopping, and truged into my kitchen to prepare. At 10 pm, I finally started baking. I baked 100 cookies and called it a night. The next morning, at 6:00 am sharp, I baked off 75 cupcakes.

 

The worst part of it all?  Packing it all up and trudging to my car, parked what seemed like miles away (it was 3 blocks) and drove the hour drive to Long Island.

The cupcakes looked pretty, but it wasn't until I set them up in the cute little cupcake stands, sprinkled them with purple and green edible decorations, and topped them with rattles held up by clothespins (another great idea by my cousin), and surrounded them with lime cookies sprinkled with purple and green sprinkles that I was truly excited.  The vibrant purple and green tops popped against the bright yellow setting.

How was the taste? Well, I'm not sure. After two solid weeks of large baking projects, I could't stomach anymore frosting.  But people raved about them. So I took a small bite. I LOVED these cupakes. The sunny lemon flavor really shined through in the tender cake and the raspberry jam added a wonderfully cool and smooth texture and sweet tart flavor. And of course, no one can go wrong with cream cheese icing.

Of course, there were also cocoa cupcakes topped with a salted caramel buttercream, which I'll post about tomorrow.

I'm back.  Miss me? :)

Ooh. Wow. I think that's the first time I've used a "smiley face" in my posts. Don't know if I'll do that again.

Lemon Cupcakes with Raspberry Filling and Cream Cheese Frosting - adapted from Cheeky Kitchen

Makes 18 cupcakes

1 pound(s) of butter (2 lbs)

4 eggs (8 eggs)

Zest of 1 lemon

1 vanilla bean, seeded

1/2 tsp. salt

1 tsp. baking powder

1 1/2 cup(s) of flour

3/4 cup(s) of buttermilk

Frosting 
12 ounces cold cream cheese 
1 1/2 sticks (12 tablespoons) butter, firm but not cold 
1/4 teaspoon salt 
1 1/2 pounds (1 1/2 boxes) powdered sugar, sifted 
1 teaspoon vanilla

In a large bowl, cream together 2 sticks of butter, eggs, and the remaining granulated sugar until very light a fluffy.

To the creamed mixture, add lemon zest, vanilla bean seeds (discard pod), salt, baking powder, flour and buttermilk.

Beat batter together just until well mixed. Be careful to not overbeat the mixture!

Spoon batter into a standard-sized muffin tin which has been lined with paper cupcake liners

Bake cupcakes in an oven preheated to 350 degrees for 18-20 minutes, or just until the centers have set and spring back to the light touch.

Frosting 

Combine butter, salt, and cream cheese in mixer and beat on medium speed 2-3 minutes. 

Add sugar until just incorporated. Don’t over mix. It should be thick but not fluffy. 

Add vanilla. If necessary, add milk to thin.

 

TWD: Apple Apple Bread Pudding

 

I wasn't going to make this one this week - Jack and I had indulged way too much on our first trip down to Long Beach Island for the summer.  To use the famous saying, I was like a fat kid in a candy store.  And I often know when I shouldn't be eating something, but it's like I have an angel and a devil on my shoulder, and the devil is actually that fat kid saying, "Eat it! What's one bite?" which then turns into three days of indulgence.  

It's not pretty.

What is it about the summer or being at the beach that makes me want to eat bad food?  Burgers. Frozen Margaritas. Elephant Ears. Fudge. Birthday Cake. TWO PIECES! Ugh. I'm so ashamed. 

When I told Jack I was thinking of skipping the recipe, he told me I should make it and bring it into work, as I haven't been blogging that much lately (I really am trying to get back on track. I have so many photos and no write ups about my food!).  Also, the lovely Elizabeth of Cake or Death chose this recipe, so I definitely didn't want to skip out, because I love her and her blog.  Even if the recipe did involve making custard (which I love to have spoonfuls of because the fat kid devil tells me to) and soggy carbs. Now, we all know how I feel about soggy carbs. But then I had some tiramisu bread pudding and was turned into a skeptical bread pudding lover.  Would I be fully turned with this recipe?

Well, let me tell you something. I was actually excited about it. Tender Gala apples, tossed in a sweet caramel sauce dripping with butter.  Complex apple pudding, brimming with notes of nutmeg, cinnamon and clove.  Sweet and creamy vanilla custard. And, of course, bread. Yummy, delicious bread. 

I was so mad that I was not going to allow myself to have more than a bite.  And I shut that inner fat kid up real fast when she suggested that I eat this with a big scoop of ice cream.  Wouldn't the ice cream be so good?

NO. NO IT WOULDN'T.

Aw, who am I kidding. Of course it would.  But I had to stop myself. At just one bite. Stupid willpower. This was good. SO good.  So good that I swore that the one day in my life that I'm not on a diet, I'm going to eat the whole damn thing. With a pint of ice cream. 

TWD: Classic Quick Berry Tart

   
You know the term, "I'd lose my own head if it wasn't attached?"  That was me making this tart. 

I had such high aspirations for this tart.  I was going to make two different tarts - one for me to take to work and one for Jack to take to work.  I wanted to make the classic version with strawberries and blueberries and then a tropical take with a coconut rum pastry cream and kiwis, papaya, and mango. I hit up the fruit stand and $15 later, I walked away with two pints each of strawberries and blueberries, a mango, a papaya, and four kiwis. 

Have I mentioned that I love NYC fruit stands?

Because I think I'm so super good at baking, I decided to double everything up at the same time. I put together two separate pots with the cornstarch, sugar, and egg yolks whisked together.  In one 2-cup measuring cup, I poured in 2 cups of whole milk for the plain tart. In the other, I pour in 1 1/4 cups whole milk and 3/4 cup coconut milk for the tropical tart. Of course, I then realize I don't have a third (and a fourth) heavy bottomed saucepan to boil the milk. So what do I do?  I decide to heat the milk up in the microwave. 

This is where I should have known it was all going to go downhill. Strike one.

The milk didn't heat up. I remember that I had a third saucepan that I rarely use because liquids take forever to come to a boil, but I had no other option. I poured one of the glasses of milk in and turned on the burner. I didn't think anything of the fact that the milk wasn't boiling due to the non-boiling properties of said pot, until, of course, the kitchen began to smell of burnt eggs. Why did it smell like burnt eggs, you ask?  Because I lit the wrong burner and cooked one of my two egg/cornstarch/sugar mixtures.

Strike two. 

I cracked open 6 more eggs (leaving me with a total of 18 egg whites to make lots of my crappy, epic fail macarons with) and made more of the mixture.  

Finally, I finished my two pastry creams (the second of which - the coconut rum version - I slightly overcooked because I left the heat on medium high as I thickened the pastry cream, but saved before it turned to scrambled eggs. Also, I couldn't taste any coconut or rum when it was finished - strike two and three-quarters), and began to slice my fruits.

First, I took out the kiwis. They felt slightly hard, but I convinced myself it was due to the slightly freezing temperatures in New York City today (seriously, May, what's going on?).  Nope. Unripe. Mangoes? Beautifully golden and red on the outside? Unripe. Papaya? Well... I hate papaya.  It always looks so delicious and juicy, but really just tastes like feet.

Finally, I baked my first tart shell to a beautiful golden brown. I put that to the side, washed out my tart pan, and pressed in the second dough. 

Fifteen minutes later, I looked at the clock timer, which I never set. Great, I thought. A burnt tart dough. Strike three and three quarters. I'm so bad, I'm over-striking out. 

I approximated that I put the tart in roughly 12 minutes earlier, so I set the timer for 13 more minutes.  12 minutes later, I worried about the tart that I thought was burning in the oven, so I ran to the oven door and whipped it open, apprehensive that I would be greeted by a dark brown, crumbly mess. Instead, I was greeted by... an empty oven.

I looked around, utterly confused.  Did I take the tart out of the oven? I checked the kitchen counter. No tart there. I opened the oven again, thinking I missed it. Empty. 

I was seriously stunned. "Jack," I yelled out. "Did you eat my tart shell?"

"What?" he asked, confused?

"Did you take my tart shell out of the oven and eat it?"

"Yes," he answered sarcastically.  "Because that's what I do. Eat hot tart shells straight from the oven."

A lightbulb went off.  I never put the tart in!  I placed it in the freezer to firm up the dough a bit after pressing it into the pan. I laughed to myself. Typical Teanna. 

So no tropical fruit tart for me.  Nor was this a quick tart by any means. In fact, it took me two hours of frustration and confusion, but all for my own faults. I'm sure that this tart is very quick. And easy. But I can assure you, it's really tasty. A great summer tart to make in a pinch. 

Unless you're me, of course.

Check out Cooking with Christine for the recipe and don't forget to check out the rest of TWD for more tarts! 

Dulce de Leche Cake with Dulce De Leche Whipped Cream. Revised for Cinco De Mayo.

 

Actually, this cake wasn't revised FOR Cinco De Mayo, per se, but I just happened to make this cake on Cinco De Mayo, so I'm just going to run with it.  I really should call this a Cajeta Cake, as that is what dulce de leche is called in Mexico. 

Cajeta! 

Remember last time I made this cake, I felt that the frosting was way too sweet for the cake?  Frankly, I should have known, as it was a Paula Deen recipe, and her recipes are either meant to clog your arteries or give you a spike in natural insulin.

This time around, I looked at the frosting for the Dulce de Leche cake in Sky High Cakes.  I wanted something lighter to compliment the rich dulce de leche filling, and this frosting is a dulce de leche whipped cream frosting. 

How good does that sound?

I didn't feel like making the dulce de leche from scratch, so I just bought some homemade dulce de leche, made some homemade whipped cream, and folded in the dulce de leche and tossed in some cinnamon for good measure.

And I basically couldn't stop eating little spoonfuls of this whipped cream. At 6:30 in the morning.  Needless to say, sitting here at 8:10 am right about to go to work, I feel like crap because I just ate 1/4 a cup of dulce de leche whipped cream for breakfast.  And a tiny bit of this cake.

So let's talk about the cake, shall we?  

We all know I loved the Cooks Illustrated White Cake recipe. I love the Cooks Illustrated White Cake recipe with dulce de leche oozing from the layers.  And now, I love the Cooks Illustrated White Cake recipe with dulce de leche oozing from the layers topped with dulce de leche whipped cream frosting.  Oh yes. This cake is pure perfection. 

However, I did refrigerate the cake, to firm up the dulce de leche filling (which, when I say oozing, I mean, it OOZED. Right out of the cake layers.  I guess I should have realized that dulce de leche "sauce" is not the same as dulce de leche.). So now the cake tastes like a cake that has been refrigerated.  I'm really hoping that it regains its normal texture by the time I put this cake out to be consumed at work around noon. 

Also, I tried to put a pretty design in the side of the whipped cream, but I failed miserably, as you can tell by the photo below.  This cake may not be as pretty as the original, but I'd take this one any day. 

Old Cake:  So pretty.

   

New cake.  Well.  I was in a rush. 


 

Oh, and I topped it off with some Lindt Chili Chocolate shards. You know. For Cinco De Mayo. And of course, when Jack saw the cake, he said:

Oh, the Stegosaurus cake.

Thanks, Jack.  

Dulce de Leche Cake with Dulce De Leche Whipped Cream

• Cake recipe adapted from Cooks Illustrated (I also made a 3-layer cake, but this recipe is for a 2-layer cake.  To add the 3rd layer, increase ingredients by 1/2)
• 2 1/4 cups cake flour (9 ounces), plus more for dusting the pans 
  1 cup whole milk, at room temperature 
  6 large egg whites (3/4 cup), at room temperature 
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract 
  1 3/4 cups granulated sugar (12 1/4 ounces) 
  4 teaspoons baking powder 
  1 teaspoon table salt 
  12 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 1/2 sticks), softened but still cool
• Caramel Frosting

Dulce De Leche (storebought or homemade)

• 
  
• Set oven rack in middle position. (If oven is too small to cook both layers on a single rack, set racks in upper-middle and lower-middle positions.) Heat oven to 350 degrees. Spray two 9-inch round cake pans with nonstick cooking spray; line the bottoms with parchment or waxed paper rounds. Spray the paper rounds, dust the pans with flour, and invert pans and rap sharply to remove excess flour. 
• 
  
• Pour milk, egg whites, and extract into 2-cup glass measure, and mix with fork until blended. 
• Mix cake flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in bowl of electric mixer at slow speed. Add butter; continue beating at slow speed until mixture resembles moist crumbs, with no powdery streaks remaining. 
• 
  
• Add all but 1/2 cup of milk mixture to crumbs and beat at medium speed (or high speed if using handheld mixer) for 1 1/2 minutes. Add remaining 1/2 cup of milk mixture and beat 30 seconds more. Stop mixer and scrape sides of bowl. Return mixer to medium (or high) speed and beat 20 seconds longer. 
• 
  
• Divide batter evenly between two prepared cake pans; using rubber spatula, spread batter to pan walls and smooth tops. Arrange pans at least 3 inches from the oven walls and 3 inches apart. (If oven is small, place pans on separate racks in staggered fashion to allow for air circulation.) Bake until thin skewer or toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, 23 to 25 minutes. 
• 
  
• Let cakes rest in pans for 3 minutes. Loosen from sides of pans with a knife, if necessary, and invert onto wire racks. Reinvert onto additional wire racks. Let cool completely, about 1 1/2 hours.
• 
  
• Layer cakes with dulce de leche, frost with caramel buttercream and decorate as you wish! 

Dulce De Leche Whipped Cream

1 pint heavy cream

1 tsp vanilla

1/4 cup confectioner's sugar

1/2 cup dulce de leche

1 tsp cinnamon

In a stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, or using a hand mixure, mix heavy cream, cinnamon and confectioners sugar until cream holds stiff peaks.  Fold in dulce de leche until incorporated and there are no streaks remaining. Refrigerate until ready to use. 

TWD: Burnt Sugar Ice Cream

 
 

I have three food weaknesses in life:  Cheeseburgers, Frozen Margaritas, and Frozen Yogurt. 

Wait. Four. Lucky Charms.  Delicious, marshmallowy Lucky Charms.

I only allow myself to eat cheeseburgers on very special occasions, ie. weekend barbecues in the summer. Every single weekend. 

I only allow myself to drink frozen margaritas on very special occasions, ie. warm days in the summer. AKA pretty often.

I allow myself to eat frozen yogurt every day.  Every. Single. Day. 

No, I don't have it everyday, but if I did, I don't feel bad about it.  

In college, however, I lived on a steady diet of gutted bagels and unlimited frozen yogurt from the dining hall (aka Graham dining hall for all of you Syracuse University people).  I figured if I took the doughy insides out of my daily bagels, I would be allowed to eat more frozen yogurt.  Ahhh, college naivete. 

But when I say I love frozen yogurt, I really mean I love ice cream, but I do NOT allow myself to eat ice cream. Seriously, I used to convince myself that I didn't like ice cream and instead thought frozen yogurt was better.  Who was I kidding?  That's like saying freeze dried ice cream tastes better than Hagen Daaz. It's just a lie developed to convince astronauts that what they have is delicious. A big, fat lie, freeze dried lie. 

When it comes down to it, I love the rich, creamy, smooth texture of ice cream.  You can beat an ice cream that's been made with a custard.  And this ice cream is at the top, top, top of my ice cream experience.  A complex burnt sugar ice cream that really just tastes like the most wonderful caramel ice cream you have ever tasted.  It was so good.  The custard was so good - I considered taking a swig out of the glass I let it cool in before I poured it into my ice cream maker, but then I thought better of myself. But the fact that I even considered it?  Well, that's just disgusting.  

But that's how good this ice cream is. So good you want to drink it melted out of a glass. Bottoms up.

Check out Becky's site, Project Domestication, for the recipe!  And check out the rest of TWD!